


the dead letters

by adieu_sweetamaryllis



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Crime AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-30
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-08-09 18:15:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16454945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adieu_sweetamaryllis/pseuds/adieu_sweetamaryllis
Summary: “J'onn?” a voice interrupts them, and the two detectives turn to face a woman who is somehow more drenched from rain than Maggie. Her makeup is smudged and her hair clings to the sides of her face in a way that would make her look almost pathetic if it weren't for the fire in her eyes; Maggie straightens her back as their gazes lock for just a second before the woman looks back to J'onn, who stands at the sight of her.His brow furrows as he looks at the woman. “Alex? What are you doing here?”The woman's jaw is set, but her voice quivers as she speaks.“It's Kara,” she says. “She's gone.”//When Kara Danvers disappears, her sister is willing to turn anywhere for help - even her father's old partner, Detective J'onn Jones, who Alex hasn't spoken to since Jeremiah Danvers died in the line of duty seven years ago.





	1. Chapter 1

The subway in National City is not a good place to be during the early morning workday rush with a pounding headache. Maggie Sawyer knows this from experience — and yet here she stands, squished between a man who smells too much like a cologne her grandfather might have worn during her childhood and a woman whose grating voice as she chats on her phone is doing nothing to help the pain in Maggie's head.

 _You're not twenty-one anymore,_ she reminds herself. _You need to spend less time at the bar._

She pushes the thought out of her head. It's too early in the morning to start thinking about why she spends most of her nights off in the pub across the street from the station. She'd barely even drank last night, anyway. No, the pain behind her eyes probably has a lot more to do with the fact that she'd been up practically all night, long after she'd gotten home from Finnegan's.

“I don't care if you have to work through the weekend — you were supposed to have it for me on Monday,” the woman on the phone snaps, her voice rising. “And if it's not on my desk this Monday, you'll be looking for a new job.”

 _Good point — at least it isn't a Monday,_ Maggie thinks, though in her sleep-addled state she's not quite sure what day of the week it is. The thought does little to comfort her anyway as the man in front of her loses his balance, falling into her as the train comes to a stop.

 _And now I smell like an old man._ She does her best not to fall over as he regains his balance. _God, why did I leave my car at the station last night?_

The door dings, and Maggie tries to move forward, blocked by the smelly old guy.

“Excuse me, this is my stop,” she says. He looks startled, as if he didn't even realize Maggie was there this entire ride, and she does her best not to shove by him as she makes her way toward the doors.

She has little patience for men who go through their lives completely unaware of just how much space they're taking up.

She gets to the top of the stairs, stopping and groaning when she sees what's waiting for her outside. It had started pouring in the twenty minute subway ride from her apartment, and Maggie forgot her umbrella.

So much for awareness, she thinks, pulling up her hood. If only Darla didn't insist on hiding the damn thing in the closet.

She keeps her head down as she walks to work, trying her best not to shiver. Where she's from the winters are far colder, and National City's climate is nothing compared to what she's used to. Her pride won't allow her to shiver in forty degrees.

Still, she breathes a sigh of relief when she arrives at the police station a few blocks away.

The office is nearly empty this time of morning, in the awkward hour or so between shifts. She drops her coat at her desk before walking briskly to the bathroom. She turns the faucet to run the hot water as soon as she's locked the door behind her.

Maggie sizes herself up in the mirror as the water heats. She'd only stayed out until just past midnight — which was late enough for her body to decide it didn't need sleep for the rest of the night, apparently. She'd given up on any substantial sleep by four a.m., and has spent the morning with her coffee mug and her notes. As such, she had wandered out of the house this morning without much thought to her appearance. Yesterday's mascara smudges at her eyes, and the bags hanging underneath are deeper than they would've been after an all-nighter just a few short years ago.

She splashes water on her face, scrubbing at her eyes in an attempt to bring some life back into them. She leaves her head hanging as she breathes in the steam, her fingers finally warming from the chill outside as the water runs over them. She stays there for a few minutes until the water starts to burn, then turns off the tap, grabbing a paper towel to blot at the droplets left on her face. It leaves her without makeup, a sight usually unseen at work, and she sighs as she stares at herself.

 _At least you look a little less like a drowned mouse,_ she thinks. She tucks a stray hair behind her ear. _A little._

Maggie leaves the bathroom, looking longingly at the coffee pots that have been drained sometime during the overnight shift. She's not sure she can make it until a new pot brews, her eyes growing a little heavier by the second. She sits down at her desk, checking her phone for the first time since she left her apartment. She frowns when she sees that two messages from her girlfriend are waiting for her.

6:43: Want to grab some breakfast before work?

6:57: Baby?

She presses the power button without unlocking her phone, deciding its best if those messages show as unread for a little longer. She'd promised Darla she'd stop coming in when she wasn't scheduled, but early mornings in the station are some of the best times to think.

“Sawyer.” She glances up to see Detective J'onn Jones looking down at her. “How'd I know you'd be here this early?” he asks as he sets down a coffee on her desk.

She's quick to grab the styrofoam cup, and has to suppress a moan at the warmth against her fingertips. “Well, I guess you just know me too well. Thanks, partner,” she says, sending a wink his way. He shakes his head at her, but she doesn't miss the slight upturn of his mouth as he moves away. It's a welcome sight; the man had warmed up to her rather slowly over the past few years. He valued her mind, but not her sense of humor. It took Maggie taking a bullet for him to finally earn her first smile from J'onn.

That was two years ago now, and though he tries to hide them, the smiles come a lot more frequently nowadays.

“Long night?” J'onn asks, and Maggie knows better than to lie to him. God knows he can see the bags under her eyes.

She shrugs. “Nah, I got a whole hour of sleep,” she says, stretching the truth a little. She takes a long sip of the coffee, ignoring how the hot liquid burns her lips for the sake of a little caffeine. “I'm good.”

“You don't look good,” he points out.

Now it's Maggie's turn to roll her eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

“You know what I mean. You've been running yourself ragged,” he continues.

Maggie waves him off. “Alright, alright, cut the intervention crap,” she says, cracking a smile. This time, J'onn doesn't return it. “I'm good, Jones. I promise.”

He stares at her for another long moment before sighing, leaning back against his desk. “So, I assume you spent the night thinking about that kid. Come up with anything?”

Maggie glances at the file on her desk — Winn Schott Jr., a 22-year-old computer science student who disappeared without a trace three days ago. She couldn't quite shake the thought that something sinister had happened to him, and it's been gnawing at her. J'onn's right — her racing thoughts about Schott had a fair bit to do with why she found herself awake into the early hours of the morning.

“Nothing that explains why he'd just up and leave. He was by all accounts happy. He had a girlfriend, a 4.0 GPA, a job lined up after graduation... He showed no signs of any plans to go anywhere or that there was someone he was talking to on his phone or computer — it's like he just vanished,” she says. “I keep going over it but it doesn't make sense. There should be some sign, right?”

Jones shrugs. “Sometimes you can have everything and still be unhappy,” he says.

Maggie studies the picture of the boy in front of her, notices how his eyes shine as he beams next to a girl, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. “Yeah, I guess so,” she says.

Her phone buzzes in her pocket, and Jones doesn't miss the slight frown on her face when Maggie sees who is calling. She sends him a look before swiping her thumb across the touch screen.

“Hey, babe,” she says with a forcedly bright tone. “No, I'm actually... not at home right now. I'm at work. I came in early. I know.” She pauses. “I know, baby. I'm sorry. We'll get dinner or something later, okay?”

J'onn shakes his head, holding his tongue until Maggie hangs up a few seconds later. “You're still with that girl?” he asks as soon as she does, raising an eyebrow. Maggie nods, staring at her blank screen for a moment. “Could've fooled me.”

Her eyes snap to his. “We're just — we're going through a rough patch.”

“Not that it's any of my business, but a year is one hell of a rough patch, kid,” he says.

Maggie doesn't respond, just puts her phone down on the far side of her desk as she sits at her chair. She pulls Winn's file closer, flipping through the few pages of interviews they'd gathered yesterday.

“There's gotta be something we're missing,” she says after a minute.

“There's a lot we're missing,” J'onn points out. “No one even knows when exactly he left.”

“That’s assuming he left at all,” Maggie counters. “I just keep thinking about his girlfriend.”

“You think she's good for it?” Jones asks, frowning. “She seemed sincere enough.”

“Yeah, those tears were real — but she couldn't remember the last time she'd heard from him. What's with that?” Maggie shakes her head. “If my girlfriend went missing I'd be going over every last moment together.”

He nods. “You should talk to her again. See if she remembers anything new.”

//

Maggie knows Lyra Strayd hasn't been honest with her — who doesn't remember her last interaction with her boyfriend when he's been missing for just twenty-four hours? So Maggie is determined to be a little less nice this time around when she goes to Strayd's apartment to interview her.

Their first conversation had been tearful, with Lyra recounting the story of how she had never had a good man in her life — first her father, and now Winn. Maggie found this odd; if she thought Winn had left on his own accord, why report it to the police?

Lyra said some reporter had come asking questions about his disappearance, and insisted that she report it — at which point she began to sniffle again. “Do you think he ever loved me?” she asked.

Maggie had to try not to roll her eyes — the girl couldn't have been trying to make this any more about her. Other than that, she had barely said anything about her missing boyfriend in ten minutes Maggie was interviewing her. And each time Maggie steered the conversation back to his disappearance, Lyra had barely any details to offer.

So Maggie makes her way to Strayd's apartment Friday morning with a bit of a sour taste in her mouth — she won't be mean to the girl, but she is determined to get to the bottom of this.

But when Lyra opens the door, her eyes even more blotchy and red than they were the day before, Maggie softens a little. “Hey, Lyra. Thanks for agreeing to talk again. I just wanted to go over a few more things.”

She nods. “Yeah, if you think it'll help.”

Maggie gives her a questioning look as she walks in. “You didn't seem so keen on helping the other day. You said you were only calling in because of that reporter — what changed?”

Lyra closes her eyes. “I got a text from him last night and it's — it freaked me out.”

“What did it say? Do you still have the text?” Maggie asks, voice eager. Winn's phone has long since been turned off — if he had sent a text, they would have know about it, right?

She shakes her head. “I couldn't stand to look at it,” she says.

Maggie tries to hide her disappointment. “Do you remember what it said?”

She shakes her head once more. _There's that bad memory again,_ Maggie notes, frowning.

“I can't — I guess it's the stress or something but I just can't remember any exact words. He said not to come after him, that much I remember. But Winn wouldn't say that,” she insists. “Winn wouldn't leave. He's not that kind of guy. His father wasn't around and he's — he's dependable. He's good.” Her lip trembles. “He's been good to me.”

 _She's sure changed her tune,_ she thinks, but stays silent.

Maggie nods. “We'll get him back. If you hear from him again, I need you to promise me you won't delete it and you'll tell me right away.”

She looks at Lyra, noticing for the first time the bags under the woman's eyes. Her disdain for Lyra might have prevented Maggie from seeing what a toll this situation was clearly taking on her.

You need to be more sympathetic, she remembers her girlfriend telling her. You need to at least try to care about other people's feelings.

Of course, that was about an entirely different matter.

“Lyra, have you been sleeping?” she asks. The girl looks down before shaking her head. “That could be why you're having trouble remembering things. Do you think you could try to get some sleep, maybe come talk to me again tomorrow?”

Lyra takes a moment, then nods. “I think I can do that.”

//

Maggie is soaked by the downpour by the time she gets back to the station. It's nearing noon, and J'onn is sitting at his desk with a bagged lunch in front of him. He looks up as she approaches.

“How'd it go?” he asks. “Talk to Strayd?”

“Yep. She said Winn texted her last night,” Maggie says.

J'onn frowns. “That's impossible. We're tracking his phone, it hasn't been turned on in days.”

“I know,” Maggie says. “It doesn't make any sense. She seemed really shaken up, but she didn't seem like she was making this up.” He still looks doubtful, so she concedes. “But who knows — she is sleep deprived. She promised to get some shut-eye and come talk to me tomorrow.”

“J'onn?” a voice interrupts them, and the two detectives turn to face a woman who is somehow more drenched from rain than Maggie. Her makeup is smudged and her hair clings to the sides of her face in a way that would make her look almost pathetic if it weren't for the fire in her eyes; Maggie straightens her back as their gazes lock for just a second before the woman looks back to J'onn, who stands at the sight of her.

His brow furrows as he looks at the woman. “Alex? What are you doing here?” He moves towards her, his arm raising as if to pull her into him before it stalls, dropping to his side as he stops in his tracks.

 _Old habits?_ Maggie wonders, watching as J'onn crosses his arms in front of him, shifting on his feet. The woman — Alex — doesn't seem to notice Jones's hesitation.

Her jaw is set, but her voice quivers as she speaks.

“It's Kara,” she says. “She's gone.”

J'onn seems to freeze, silence falling for a moment before the phone rings loudly on Maggie's desk, making her jump. She glances at the screen — it's her girlfriend — and quickly presses the silence button.

“Kara's gone,” Alex says again, and J'onn finally breaks, stepping forward so he's standing right in front of her. She mirrors him, taking a step back, but he only seems focused on the words that just left her mouth.

“Since when?” he asks, voice low. “When was the last time you saw her?”

Alex shakes her head, blinking her eyes. “I-I'm not sure, we weren't talking. We got in a fight last week and I was being stupid, and now she's —” she cuts herself off, shaking her head again. She sets her jaw as she looks back at J'onn. “We have to find her.”

“We will,” Jones says. “Come on, let's get you somewhere more private so we can talk.”

Maggie watches as he leads Alex towards a conference room, resisting the urge to tag along. Jones is a very private person, after-all. She learned early on in their professional relationship that she was much better off trying not to involve herself in his personal life.

J'onn stops when he reaches the doorway. He ushers Alex in, pausing for a moment before he seems to realize that there isn't another person behind them. He frowns, eyes finding Maggie's. He motions for her to follow, and she doesn't need to be asked twice.

She crosses the room in a few quick strides. Jones closes the door behind her.

The woman is standing in the middle of the room, her arms crossed, her shirt still drenched from the rain. She reminds Maggie of a kicked puppy — an observation that she keeps to herself given the situation.

J'onn moves so he's in front of Alex while Maggie remains in the doorway. “Start from the beginning,” he says. “Tell me everything you know.”

Alex takes a deep, shuddering breath before she begins to speak. “Her friend from work, James... He called me this morning and said she didn't come in yesterday. He went by her apartment this morning and she wasn't there.”

J'onn seems to relax a little. “That doesn't have to mean anything nefarious — could she be with a friend?”

Alex hesitates for a moment. “He found an envelope with my name in it,” she says. “That's when he called me.”

“She left a note?”

“No — there was a note inside, but it wasn't from her,” Alex says. “It's her handwriting and she signed it but it's not — Kara wouldn't just —” Her face crumbles as she drops her head into her hands. “I think someone took her.”

J'onn reaches forward, placing his hand on Alex's shoulder in a show of comfort that Maggie has never seen from J'onn Jones. She takes a step forward into the room, unsure whether the crying woman is even aware she's there. “Do you have the note?” she asks, her voice loud in the quiet room.

If Alex is surprised she's there she doesn't show it. She nods, producing a sealed Ziplock baggie containing a piece of paper from her purse.

 _Preserving evidence even though she's clearly in distress,_ she thinks. _That's... interesting._

Alex slides the paper over to her across the table. She reads the one line written on the page out loud. “'I'm sorry, but I had to go. Please don't look for me.’ Signed Kara.” Maggie frowns. “That's it?”

Alex nods. “That's it.”

The words sound oddly familiar, and it takes a moment for it to click — Winn Schott Jr., Mr. Perfect Boyfriend, texting Lyra not to come after him. The realization makes Maggie feel weird — like a cold breeze at her neck, making her shiver. She shakes it off — it's a coincidence, maybe, but a weird one.

Alex turns to J'onn. “She wouldn't just leave like this, you know she wouldn't.”

J'onn sighs. “I know. Kara wouldn't do that to you. But I don't know if we'll be able to open a case, Alex.”

Alex doesn't seem to want to hear it. “There has to be something you can do,” she insists. “Can you check for fingerprints on the note? Maybe track her phone?”

“We wouldn't be able to get a warrant for her phone, Alex, you know that,” J'onn says. “I know, you're upset, but —”

“I'm not upset, J'onn. Kara's in danger. I need to find her — and you're saying you won't help?” She shakes her head. “I should have known.”

“That's not what I'm saying — I'm saying National City Police Department can't help you unless you have something more substantial.” He sounds exasperated, and it's clearly not what she wants to hear.

Alex lets out a laugh, though there's little humor in it. “Oh, that makes it much better.” She snatches the note off the table and puts it back in her bag. “I'm sure that distinction will mean the world to Kara while she's being held captive god-knows-where.”

“Alex, I am sorry, but — ” J'onn says as she begins to move towards the door.

Alex stops for only for a moment to spit back at him, “Screw you, J'onn,” before she's out the door.

She leaves a chill behind her. Maggie turns to Jones, who is standing with his arms crossed as he stares at the ground. “Well, that didn't go very well.”

J'onn closes his eyes for a long moment. When he opens them again, they find Maggie. “We have history.”

“Clearly.”

Jones sighs. He waits a beat before moving towards her. “I think you should go after her. Tell her you'll help her find her sister.”

Maggie raises her eyebrows. “I thought you said there was nothing we could do.”

“I said there's nothing NCPD could do,” he says. “But I trust Alex's instincts. If she says Kara is in danger, then she is — and Alex will stop at nothing to save her, including putting herself in harm's way. And I can't let that happen.” His voice is rougher than Maggie is used to hearing it, a gravely tone to it that unsettles her. Jones is a pillar of strength at the department — she's never seen him crack, even under the worst of circumstances.

But this Alex woman is apparently worth breaking that wall down for, she thinks.

“If she means so much to you — why don't you go after her yourself?” Maggie asks.

He shakes his head, eyes dropping as he speaks. “We wouldn't be able to work together. And if Kara's in danger, she deserves a detective that will be able to put aside their personal problems and bring her home.” He looks at Maggie. She's surprised to see his eyes are soft, and if she didn't know any better she'd say he looks close to tears. “I trust you can do that.”

“I — of course,” Maggie says, unsure of what to make of this sudden show of emotion. J'onn clearly cares for these girls in a way she hadn't expected him to care for anyone. “I'm just not sure where to start. You were right — we won't be able to get a warrant for her phone records and I'm not sure I can pull any more strings at the lab.”

Jones thinks for a moment. “Kara is a good girl, with a heart of gold — but she has a way of finding trouble. She's a reporter, I'd start there. Talk to her friend, James, the one that noticed she's missing. Find out what she was working on.”

Maggie nods. “Sounds good.” She turns to leave, before J'onn's voice stops her.

“Thank you, Maggie,” he says, his voice back to its normal register. She flashes him a small smile as she rounds the corner.

//

Maggie is somewhat happy to find that it's only drizzling when she walks out onto the sidewalk. She'd prefer no rain at all, but she'll take what she can get after being poured on twice already today. She takes a few steps forward, looking left and right down the street before sighing — no sign of Alex.

That is, until a voice pipes up behind her. “Looking for someone?” the voice says, and Maggie turns to find the woman herself.

Her back is leaning against the brick staircase, her arms folded as she tilts her head at Maggie. She's taken the few seconds she's had to on her own to collect herself, and Maggie's glad — she's never good at dealing with the crying ones.

“You, actually,” Maggie says. She shifts, unsure if she should approach her — she decides on no, instead shoving her hands into her pockets as she shrugs. “I want to help you.”

Alex sizes Maggie up, frowning. “Why?”

Maggie should be expecting this question after how badly that scene had played out just a few minutes before, but she's still caught off guard. She hesitates, considers lying before figuring that the woman would just see through it anyway. Her eyes are too fierce as they stare at Maggie to let a lie slip by.

“J'onn asked me to,” she says, quickly continuing when she sees Alex's frown deepen. “And also because I believe you. There's obviously a lot of love between you and your sister, and that note is bullshit.”

Alex considers her a moment before nodding. “Okay.” She takes a long step towards Maggie, and she becomes aware for the first time just how much taller than her the other woman is. Alex's face is more relaxed now, her eyes somewhat softer as she looks at Maggie. “Where do we start, detective?”

Maggie blinks. She wasn’t expecting it to be that easy, but then again, this woman is desperate.

“Kara's friend, James.”

Alex nods. “To CatCo, then.”

Maggie raises her eyebrows. “CatCo? That's where your sister works?” She shakes her head. J'onn did say the girl had a way of getting herself in trouble. _And CatCo is just the place to do that,_ she thinks. The publication had a bit of a reputation, after all. They had even printed some less-than-true things about Maggie herself just a few months ago when she'd been involved in a big bust.

Alex nods.

“We'll take my car,” Maggie says.

//

James Olsen meets them at the elevator. Maggie is surprised when he reaches forward and pulls Alex into a hug, which she returns for a few long seconds before pulling away. James smiles politely when he sees Maggie, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“And who is this?” he asks.

James Olsen, Pulitzer Prize winning photographer, she recognizes him instantly. Maggie is a fan — his work explores a side of National City she wishes more would see — but she decides now is probably not the best time to mention that.

She takes a step forward. “Maggie Sawyer,” she says, choosing to leave her occupation out of this introduction. She's not technically doing this for work, anyway.

“James Olsen,” he says, shaking her hand. “Let's talk in private.”

He leads them through an open office-space with many desks and giant windows. The energy in the room is hushed but frantic, and James' voice is quiet as he speaks to them. “I was hoping you'd come,” he says. “There's a lot I have to tell you.”

 _That's what I like to hear,_ Maggie thinks, but keeps it to herself.

“There's a lot I want to know,” Alex says as they walk towards his office. “Do you know what Kara was working on?” she asks as soon as they're behind closed doors.

Maggie glances at Alex, whose eyes are trained on James with the same ferocity she'd seen earlier when things went south with J'onn. Maggie's glad that gaze hasn't been focused on her, yet; she thinks she might melt under its intensity.

She's impressed that Alex beat her to the question, and happily surprised they're on the same page. The girl has her wits about her, even if she seems like she's teetering on the edge of a meltdown should anything happen to Kara.

“She was working on this story — more of an investigation, really,” James says. He bows his head. “I should have stopped her. I knew it was dangerous but she's so...” he trails off.

Alex puts a hand on his arm. “She's stubborn. There's not much you can do to stop her once she sets her mind on something.” It comforts him, Maggie supposes, because he nods before continuing.

“People are disappearing all over the city. It started slow, but that didn't last long before it started to spread. She'd found at least six of them just this month, all gone the same way.”

“What way, James?” Alex asks, her voice shaking.

He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “Just... leaving, out of nowhere. Then there's some form of contact — a letter, a text. All with the same sort of message: 'I'm leaving, please don't come after me, I'm sorry.'”

Maggie remembers Winn Schott Jr., abandoning his love without a word except for a text telling her not to follow him. Kara's own note was eerily similar. She swallows, looking at Alex, whose shoulders have slumped.

James must see something in how they both deflate at his words. He looks at Alex. “That's what that note said, isn't it?”

Alex's eyes fill with tears as she nods, and Maggie decides its her turn to step in.

“How'd she find out about this?”

“One of our employees, Kelly, she was went missing. No one was looking into it. Kara said she deserved justice,” he says, looking out through his glass office walls to an empty desk. He lowers his voice when he speaks again. “There's one other thing, and this is going to sound a little ... weird,” he says, glancing between the two of them. “With each disappearance, something happens to people's memories. They can't remember the last time they saw the person, heard from them — it's like people are being brainwashed.”

“That sounds more than just a little weird,” Maggie points out.

James turns to Alex. “Try. Think about the last time you saw Kara. What can you remember?”

She shakes her head. “We haven't been speaking — we got in a fight and I was ignoring her calls.”

“But before that,” he presses her. “What was the fight about?”

“It was — we were — I... don't know,” she finishes. Her eyes go wide as she looks back at him. “I can't remember.”

“Must've been important, for you to stop speaking to your best friend,” he says. He turns to Maggie. “And you're right — it's more than just a little weird. Something bad is going on here.”

“Do you know where Kara kept her notes on this?” she asks.

James gestures towards a door across the big open room that you can see through the glass walls of his office, towards what Maggie assumes must be Kara's own small space. “You can take a look in her office. I think anything she has would be in there.”

He begins to lead them towards the room, but they barely make it halfway across the office before they're stopped by a woman that Maggie assumes must be Cat Grant herself. She becomes even more sure when she opens her mouth.

“Mr. Olsen,” she says. “Who are your friends?”

“This is Alex, Kara's sister, and Maggie. They're uh — just looking to get some things from Kara's office,” James says.

The blonde woman shakes her head, a smirk working its way onto her face. “Oh, James. Don't think I don't know a police officer when I see one. Maggie Sawyer,” she says, looking straight at Maggie. “You and your partner brought in those bank robbers a few months back. It was front page news,” she says, then shrugs. “For a Wednesday, anyway.”

James' eyes go wide as he looks at Maggie. “Mrs. Grant — “ he begins, but Cat holds up a hand.

“No, no,” she chides. “No detective will be taking the property of one of my reporters without a warrant — which you would never get, by the way.”

Alex shakes her head. “Well, I'm not a police officer — I'm her sister.” She moves towards Kara's office again, but Cat stops her.

“Kara Danvers' reporting is property of CatCo Worldwide Media,” she says, stepping between Alex and the door. “I'm sorry, Ms. Danvers. No exceptions.”

She does look almost sorry, but Alex doesn't care. Maggie worries she might have to pull her away from Cat Grant — a fight she wouldn't mind watching — before Alex suddenly turns on her heel, marching away. Maggie doesn't hesitate to follow, but Alex's legs are long, and she can barely keep up.

James finds them in the hallway.

Alex doesn't turn around when he calls her name, though she does stop, sighing. “I'm sorry, James, but I really don't want to waste any more time here. She's right — we can't get a warrant.”

Maggie stands between them, feeling somewhat awkward. She turns to James. “That was pretty much the only lead we have right now on Kara.”

“I understand your frustration,” he assures her, his words meant for Alex more than Maggie. “And I know it's nowhere near as good, but she did give me a list of the names of the people who she thinks have disappeared like this,” James says. “I saved it in my phone.”

Maggie looks hopeful. “That could help — I could pull up the missing persons reports on some of those names, see if we can find anything more.” She looks at Alex. “At least it's something to go off of.”

Alex finally turns towards them. “If we can out what happened to them, maybe we can find out what happened to Kara.” She looks at James. “thank you.”

He gives her a smile, but it’s as empty as it was earlier. “I just hope you can bring her home,” he says.

//

Maggie and Alex sit in the car in silence as they leave the parking garage. She's not sure where she should drive — does Alex want to be brought home until Maggie has more news on the missing persons? She has a feeling the answer is no.

She finds herself making her way back to the precinct. They make the drive in silence with Christmas music playing faintly on the radio in the background. When she pulls into her spot she leaves the engine running, looking at the woman in the seat next to her.

Alex looks as if she could be Maggie's age, maybe a little older — then again, the lack of sleep probably added five years to Maggie's own face, she can't imagine what the stress of a missing sibling is doing to Alex. She knows very little about the woman, except that she feels driven to help her. At first she thought it was just because her partner had asked (and quite sincerely at that), but no; something is drawing Maggie towards Alex.

And she doesn't want her to leave yet.

“Want to come back inside? Tell J'onn what we found?” she asks.

Alex doesn't seem to hear her question, or at least doesn't offer an answer to it. “Why did J'onn ask you to help me?” she asks instead.

Maggie hesitates, then shrugs. “He cares about you.”

At this Alex scoffs, and Maggie hopes she hasn't overstepped her bounds. But Alex doesn't actually argue, just waits a moment before changing the subject. “I'm sorry you got roped into this,” she says. And then, “I can handle this, just so you know. You don't have to stick with me if this all sounds too crazy. I'd be fine on my own.”

“But you don't have to be,” Maggie says. “This isn't something anyone should have to go through alone.”

Alex laughs, dropping her gaze. “You know, that sounds like something Kara would say,” she says, and Maggie is nervous for a moment before Alex looks at her again, this time wearing a slight smile. “Thanks.”

Maggie nods, feeling as if the all the oxygen has been sucked out of the car — maybe to fuel the fire burning in her cheeks. “You know, uh — I was pretty impressed with you back there. You asked all the right questions and you even stood up to Cat Grant.”

Alex shakes her head. “Don't be too impressed — it's kind of my job,” she says. Maggie tilts her head, confused — she had missed just what it was that Alex does. “I'm a private investigator,” Alex provides just a second later.

“Oh — J'onn didn't mention — well, I mean he did say you'd find Kara at all costs, but,” Maggie stumbles. It catches Alex by surprise, and she lets out a dark laugh.

“He's got that right.” Her eyes darken, the fire from earlier suddenly back as her gaze fixes on the buttons of the radio.

“Well, you'll have help,” Maggie says. “We're going to bring Kara back.”

Because something is definitely rotten here, and let's be honest, the whole “brainwashing” thing is downright creepy. Maggie probably won't be able to sleep at night without an answer. No, she has to see this through — and not just because of a woman who showed up at her desk this morning in tears, begging for help. This is her case, and she's going to get to the bottom of it.

Still, it doesn't hurt that Alex looks at her for a long moment across the car. “Thank you,” she says again, her voice soft.

Maggie smiles. “Any time.” She lets the moment last a little longer before clearing her throat. “So, you coming in?”

//

They find Jones at his desk. He seems surprised to see Alex again, his eyes lingering on her before he turns to Maggie. “What'd you find?”

“Kara was investigating a string of disappearances — I think our Winn Schott Jr. might have been one of them, as a matter of fact,” she says. “Each of them has the same circumstances: people from all walks of life just up and leaving, with some form of written communication telling their loved ones not to look for them.” She's unsure whether she should mention the whole supernatural element — Jones doesn't strike her as much of a “believer,” no matter how many odd unexplainable occurrences National City has had over the years.

“She got involved in something nasty,” he says. “I was afraid of that.”

“We have the list of names she had put together. We want to look into their disappearances, see if there are any clues,” Alex says. “Is that something you can help us with?”

J'onn raises his eyebrows when Alex addresses him, then nods. “Of course.”

He opens his computer, and Maggie hands him the phone with the list from James. He begins typing the names one by one, frowning after each one doesn't produce a report.

“What the hell?” he says. “Are these people not being reported missing?”

Maggie glances at Alex. “Here's the thing — after each disappearance, everyone who has recently had contact with the missing person seems to just... forget everything about their last encounter. Between that and the notes...”

J'onn's brow furrows. “How could that be?”

“I'm not sure, but remember how I said it was weird that Lyra couldn't remember anything about Winn's disappearance? She wouldn't have even called us if Kara hadn't come asking questions. This is why,” she says. “Someone is taking people and somehow making it so no one notices or cares.”

J'onn doesn't answer, just types another name into the computer and frowns when it beeps at him in response.

“What is it?” Alex asks, stepping around the desk so she can see over his shoulder.

He looks up at Maggie, who doesn't move to try to see the screen. She has a feeling she already knows what's coming next.

“The fourth name on the list — Kelly Barnes — was found this morning,” he says, voice grim. “She's dead.”

//

Somewhere, deep beneath the ground in National City, Kara Danvers opens her eyes.

Her first instinct is to move, but her arms are tied down. A bright light shines in her face, and she slams here eyes back shut. She tries to gasp for air when she notices the tubes in her nose and mouth, and she pulls harder at her restraints, a panic taking over her.

“Hey — hey, it's okay,” a soft voice says from above her, a hand landing on her arm.

Kara's eyes take a second to adjust to the figure standing in front of the light.

It's a girl with striking green eyes that look at her with concern. “It's okay,” the girls repeats. “We're here to help.”


	2. Chapter 2

“The fourth name on the list — Kelly Barnes — was found this morning. She's dead.”

It feels as if the air has been sucked out of the room for a few seconds before Alex breaks the silence. “How?”

J’onn clicks a few more times before shaking his head. He looks up at Alex, who is wringing her hands. “The medical examiner is conducting the autopsy today,” he says. “I'll talk to her. See if we can speed things along.”

Alex doesn't turn to watch him go instead keeping her gaze fixed on the computer screen. Maggie watches with a frown, the look in Alex's eye making her uneasy.

"Hey," she says, stepping towards her. "Want to maybe go home for a bit? I can give you a ride. You can take a shower. I can get us some food while we wait."

It takes Alex a moment to notice Maggie said anything. "Maybe we could go back to CatCo," she suggests. “See if we can get past that woman.”

"I don't think Cat Grant is even going to let us back in the building," Maggie says. She tilts her head. "Come on. We'll be able to think better with some food in us anyway."

Alex sighs, then nods. "Let's go."

//

Alex lives only about five minutes from Maggie's apartment, which is an even shorter trip by car. Maggie hesitates when they pull up in front of her building, but Alex looks back at her when she doesn't get out.

"Come on," she says. "I have some stuff we can make upstairs."

Alex’s apartment is about the same size as hers. It’s not messy, per se, but the woman clearly hasn’t had time to care for it recently, dishes overflowing the sink and clothes strewn about the living room. Maggie isn’t complaining — she prefers when homes look lived in, without things tucked away into cabinets and corners. It shows they have nothing to hide.

Alex drapes her wet jacket over the couch and drops her keys on a small dining room table stuck in the middle of the room. She walks over to her pantry, though Maggie can see the frown written on her face as her eyes roam up and down the shelves.

“Sorry,” she says after a moment when she seems to come up empty. “I have some pasta. There should be a jar of sauce in the fridge.”

“Okay,” Maggie says, though she knows her mother would kill her if she ever saw her usingsauce out of a jar. Then again, that doesn’t matter much anymore. “I can take care of that, if you want. You can shower.”

Alex puts the box of pasta down on her counter, but doesn’t move to leave.

“Why are you helping me?” Alex asks, though there isn’t the same malice in her voice as when she’d asked why J’onn was helping earlier. Instead, she’s looking at Maggie like she’s a puzzle she can’t quite figure out.

“Because you need help,” Maggie says simply. But this doesn’t seem to satisfy Alex, who crosses her arms as she leans back against the counter. Maggie shifts uncomfortably under her gaze, a heat prickling at the back of her neck. “And I guess, uh — seeing you, and how badly you want to find your sister… I don’t have anyone like that who would care if I went missing. Maybe J’onn, but…”

Alex seems to understand this, nodding. “Kara is the only person I have. She’s my family.”

That sounds nice.

Alex softens a little, but it just makes her look sadder. It’s no wonder why — the only person she has in this world is missing, and there’s no trace of her.

“We’ll find her,” Maggie assures her. They have to. Because from the very little she knows about Alex Danvers, she knows Alex won’t stop until they do.

//

Alex gets in the shower while Maggie puts a pot of water up. Alex’s kitchen is a little older, with a gas stove that will probably take at least twenty minutes to boil water. She feels weird about poking around Alex’s space while she’s in the shower. It seems a little ridiculous, being a detective and all, but she doesn’t want to invade this woman’s privacy.

Though she does want to know more about her sister.

Maggie pulls her laptop out of her bag, settling at the dining room table so she can see the stove while she works. _Kara Danvers,_ she types into the search bar. It’s a pretty basic place to start, but it’d be good to know what Kara had been writing about before she disappeared, even if she hadn’t gotten to publish her story on the missing girls yet. Maybe there is more to this.

Aside from a few notable pieces on local politicians, it’s mostly fluff stuff, though Kara does seem to steer clear of the usual CatCo grime. There’s nothing here that should have gotten her in trouble.

She pulls the list out of her pocket – the names that Olsen gave her –and starts searching for the missing people on social media. It’s strange, to see how one by one they all stop posting suddenly. A few comments from distant friends who haven’t heard from them in a while, but none of the usual desperate pleas you see posted by family members during most missing persons cases.

The water starts to sizzle over. Maggie curses under her breath as she jumps up to get it.

“Shit,” she says again as the flame fizzles out. Is that dangerous? They’d only had an electric stove in her house growing up (and she’s hardly been cooking for herself lately), so despite having made more pasta in the first eighteen years of her life than most people should probably eat in a lifetime, she’s still struggling.

It would be so incredibly like her to start a fire while boiling water in a stranger’s house.

She switches the burner off and moves the pot over to the next one, happy when it ignites easily and doesn’t explode. She waits a few seconds for the water to start to bubble again, then adds the half-empty box of pasta Alex had pulled out of her pantry.

She hears the water turn off in the other room as Alex finishes her shower. Just in time — the pasta should only take nine minutes.

Her phone buzzes, and she frowns when she sees the name on the caller ID. _Darla._

_Shit — I totally forgot I told her we’d get dinner tonight._

“Hey,” Maggie says, wincing at her attempt at a light-hearted tone.

The silence on the other end of the line is deafening before Darla speaks. “Okay, so you’re not dead then.”

“No,” Maggie says. “I’m sorry, I know I should have called.”

“You at work?”

Maggie looks at the door to Alex’s room. “Not exactly. I’m helping a girl with a missing sister, but it’s off the clock.”

There’s another few beats of silence, and Maggie knows she’s said the wrong thing.

“I know you're just trying to be a good person or whatever, Maggie, but you’re kind of a bad girlfriend.”

It stings, but Maggie doesn’t let Darla know. Instead she looks away from Alex’s room, lowering her voice. “Can we not do this over the phone?”

“Whatever,” Darla says. She’s quiet for a few moments, then Maggie hears her sigh. “I just — I don’t know when I’m going to see you, Maggie. When are we supposed to talk about this stuff if not whenever I can get you on the fucking phone?”

“I know,” Maggie says, wincing at the curse. Darla saves those for when she’s really angry. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Then do something about it,” Darla says with a finality in her voice that scares Maggie a little.

“Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Darla says, but she sounds less than enthused.

Darla hangs up before Maggie can say anything else, and she’s kind of glad — she’s not sure Darla would return her ‘I love you,’ right now, and she’s not sure how much she could even mean it.

She hasn’t seen Darla in more than a week. Between work and her after-work activities (and god knows she hasn’t been a morning person lately), there just hasn’t been time. This isn’t the first time they’ve gone this long without seeing each other. It’s sort of become a habit.

Maggie just doesn’t seem to have room for other people in her life. Or maybe they don’t have room for her and her crazy job — she hasn’t quite figured it out yet. Either way, she knows she can’t stop her work, not when people like Alex Danvers are out there that need her help.

She puts her phone on the table and walks over to the pot to give it a stir. The noodles stick together after several minutes of being neglected, and Maggie frowns. Before she can decide what to do about it, her phone dings.

She eyes it from across the room. It’s probably Darla, wanting to continue their conversation. Maybe it’s best left ignored for now. But a voice in the back of her head is telling her it’s something more, and she finds herself crossing the kitchen to check just in case.

It's a message from J’onn.

_17:24: Just got word ME is delayed. Results tmrw._

“Shit,” she mutters under her breath. Alex won't be happy about this, that's for sure, and Maggie can't blame her. The waiting game isn't a very fun one, especially when your sister's life is hanging in the balance. Maggie doesn't have any siblings of her own, but she can only imagine the pain Alex is going through.

She glances back at the door that Alex disappeared behind more than a half hour ago. She heard the shower running for a while, but it's been at least ten minutes since that stopped.

She doesn't want to intrude — but it's been a little too long for comfort, and she thinks Alex ought to know that they're going to be waiting a little longer than anticipated. She moves towards the door, pausing to listen for a moment before knocking gingerly.

“Alex?” she calls. “Hey — I have some news. Can I come in?”

There’s no response, and Maggie frowns. Alex clearly isn’t in the shower anymore, so she should be able to hear her.

She’s about to call out again when she hears a thump behind the door, the kind that sounds a lot like a body hitting the ground, and it puts her on edge. Sure, it could just be Alex, rifling through her things as she looks for something to wear, but… She finds herself reaching for the gun tucked into her belt as her hand moves for the door knob.

“Alex?” she says again as she twists it open.

The first indication that something is wrong is that the lights are still off. The sun had set while Alex was showering, so she would have presumably turned them on as soon as she came back into the room. But the room is dark, besides from a weird glowing green light that Maggie can’t quite see the source of. It’s too bright to be an alarm clock, but it’s that same sort of hue, except its pulsing instead of blinking.

She pushes the door open a little further and sees Alex’s feet at the edge of her field of vision, on the ground like she’s kneeling. Then she hears it.

A noise.

She doesn’t know how to explain it, except it’s unlike anything she’s ever heard. A sharp static noise, quiet enough that she couldn’t hear it through the door but once she she’s in the room it’s overwhelming.

There’s a masked figure standing by the bed. In front of them is Alex, who stares, unmoving, straight ahead, body slightly slumped as she sits on her knees. The person has some sort of band around their head, glowing green rocks at each temple casting an eerie sheen across the entire room.

If it wasn’t right in front of her, Maggie would swear it were something out of some superhero movie.

The more she looks at the ring of stones on the person’s head, the more her own head begins to throb. She tears her eyes away, looking instead at Alex, who hasn’t stirred.

Maggie levels her gun and opens the door the rest of the way.

“Don’t move,” she says as she takes a step inside, but the person either ignores her or doesn’t seem to hear her. They reach out a hand towards Alex’s forehead, the static buzzing suddenly growing louder, and Maggie’s hands start to shake.

“Stop!” Maggie yells, though she can barely hear herself over the noise.

Fingers graze Alex’s skin, and Maggie panics.

She fires. The masked head snaps up, and Maggie has just enough time to see a pair of bright green eyes before the bullet strikes. Maggie is confident she’s a good shot (and this is hardly a challenging distance), but the bullet apparently swings sideways and lodges in intruder’s shoulder, sending them staggering back.

“Fuck,” Maggie hears them grunt before they take two quick steps backwards and towards the open window. Maggie hesitates — she could follow them, but Alex is still slumped over, unmoving, and she’s worried. Besides, whoever this is, they’re clearly dangerous, judging by the still constant ringing of distant static in her ears. Maggie doesn’t know that a one-on-one fight in the alley is something she’ll necessarily walk away from, whether she’s injured them or not.

So she keeps her gun trained on them until they’ve left, then runs to check the window. Maggie sighs with relief, slamming the window shut. Whoever it was, they’re gone.

She goes back to Alex, who hasn’t moved. Her eyes are open but unfocused in a way that makes Maggie uneasy.

“Alex?” she asks, kneeling in front of her. She reaches out slowly, touching Alex’s face. It feels like an oddly intimate gesture for a woman she hardly knows, so she switches to tapping her cheek lightly. “Danvers, wake up.”

She doesn’t want to slap her, but this doesn’t seem to be working.

“Shit,” Maggie curses under her breath. She glances up towards the window — hopefully the intruder won’t come back. She wouldn’t put up much of a fight with her back to them.

They need to get out of here, fast.

She pulls out her phone and dials J’onn’s number from memory. It rings twice before he answers.

“Sawyer — find anything?” he asks immediately.

Maggie looks back at Alex. “Something happened. Alex is… you need to get here, now.”

“Where’s here?”

“Her apartment.”

“I’m on my way,” he says, then hangs up before Maggie can give him the address.

Maggie lowers her phone, frowning as she looks back at Alex, who still hasn’t stirred. Her breathing is steady, and she doesn’t look hurt, but Maggie still wants to be sure. She reaches around the back of her head, pressing softly to look for any wounds that might have resulted in Alex’s current state.

Without any warning, Alex’s eyes crack open. “Kara?”

Maggie tries not to jerk back too suddenly, her fingers still threaded through Alex’s hair. She frowns; she looks nothing like Alex’s sister, judging by the photos on Kara’s Facebook. Still, she’s happy to see Alex conscious again, albeit a little confused.

“Danvers, hey. It’s Maggie, you’re okay,” she says, trying to comfort her. It does little to sooth the crease in Alex’s brow, but her eyes ease back shut as she lets out a long breath.

“What happened?” she asks, voice groggy.

“I’m still trying to figure that out myself. Do you remember anything?”

Alex shakes her head, then groans. “Fuck,” she says, raising a clenched fist to her forehead.

_Whatever they did must have hurt, even if it didn’t leave a mark,_ Maggie thinks, remembering the sharp headache she’d gotten from just a few short seconds in the room with that person’s strange device.

“Let me get you some water,” Maggie says, pushing up off her knees to stand. She crosses the small apartment quickly, hair standing on the back of her neck for every second she is out of the room and away from Alex. She’s pretty sure she scared off whoever that was, but it’s not like she noticed them sneaking in in the first place.

Much to her relief, Alex is still alone when she returns to the bedroom. She’s even sitting up now, leaning against the bed.

“Here,” Maggie says, kneeling down next to her.

“Thank you,” Alex says, taking the cup from her hand. It shakes as she raises it to her mouth, and Maggie feels an unusual need to reach forward and steady her. She resists it, rocking back on her feet instead as she watches Alex nearly down the whole thing in a few sips.

“Do you remember anything yet?” Maggie doesn’t mean to push her, but her heart is still beating a hundred miles a minute and she wants to make sure they’re safe.

“Not really,” Alex says. “Just a green light and my head hurting. It still hurts.”

“Sorry,” Maggie says. “You should rest. J’onn is on his way.”

If Alex is upset by the news, she doesn’t show it – just closes her eyes and nods as she leans back against the bed.

J’onn’s arrival is signaled by a few short raps on the door.

When she opens it, Maggie can hardly get out a word before he’s entering the apartment.

“What happened?” he asks, fastening the deadbolt behind him.

“Danvers was showering, I was cooking. Someone came in, probably through the window. They…” Maggie struggles to find the words, and J’onn isn’t feeling patient.

“Did they hurt her?” he asks, taking a step towards the bedroom.

Maggie chooses her next words carefully. “When I came in, she was unconscious. But I don’t think they did anything to her physically. She doesn’t have any wounds.”

J’onn stops, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“The person — they had some weird tech on their head. It was glowing, and emitting this weird noise that was like… I can’t describe it, really. All I know is that it hurt – bad. I told them to stop, they reached for Alex and I fired my gun, but I hit them and they ran. Danvers is awake now, but she doesn’t remember any of it.”

J’onn blinks at her, face unreadable as he processes what she’s just said, then looks up at the ceiling as he starts circling the apartment.

Maggie frowns. “What are you doing?”

“Checking for carbon dioxide alarms.”

“J’onn,” Maggie says forcefully. “I’m not — that’s not — would you stop — J’onn!” she repeats, and he finally looks up at her. “I’m serious. Something fucking weird is happening here.”

“She’s right.” Maggie turns to see Alex now standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame for support. “I remember seeing him when I came out of the bathroom. He was near the window. He — he told me to get on my knees, and then it’s just… black.” Alex’s eyes dart to her. “Until Maggie found me.”

“Are you okay?” J’onn asks, voice full of concern.

“Yes,” Alex replies, suddenly back to her earlier demeanor with J’onn — cold and short.

“How’s your head?” Maggie asks.

Alex smiles at her, but it looks weak on her tired face. “A little better.”

J’onn walks past Alex, and she steps clear out of his way so he can get into the room. “From which window did he enter?”

“That one,” Alex says, pointing. Maggie follows behind J’onn.

J’onn is silent as he walks over to the window, stooping to look at it. “It doesn’t look broken. Was it locked?”

“Yeah, I — I think so,” Alex says. She fidgets. “I lock them at night when I go to sleep, but sometimes I open them in the morning. I can’t remember if —“

“So he didn’t have to break in. Do you have any valuables in this room?”

“No — I mean, yes, but no, he wasn’t looking for them. He was… he was waiting for me.”

J’onn turns back to them. “I think we need to get you out of here immediately. My apartment is nearby, we could —“

“No.” There is little room for argument in Alex’s tone. “I can get a hotel. I have cash. I can put it under a fake name – it’ll be fine.”

“I don’t like it,” J’onn says. “Someone should be with you. Or at least outside.”

Alex straightens her back. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

J’onn opens his mouth to argue, but Maggie beats him to it. “What if you came to my place? I have a spare room.”

She figures it’s their best bet at keeping Alex safe, if she won’t allow an undercover detail to stay outside of her room.

To her surprise, Alex agrees. “I guess that’s safer than here, considering.”

J’onn frowns, but if he’s upset that Alex would rather stay with Maggie than him, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just nods. “Then it’s settled. Let’s get you out of here.”

//

The next time Kara opens her eyes, she’s immediately aware that she’s not alone.

This time there’s a man leaning over her, his green eyes almost identical to those of the girl she’d seen when she’d last been conscious.

She finds herself focused on those eyes, her head still swimming. It’s not until his fingers wave over her face that she’s aware he’s expecting something from her. With great effort, she forces herself to focus on what the man is saying to her.

“—vers, you were attacked by…” the words fade out as Kara’s eyes drift back closed, and she misses a solid few seconds of what he says before she’s able to bring herself back. “… your family has been contacted an…”

Everything’s black again. _Damnit, Kara, focus!_

“— our best to take care of you, okay?”

“Where am I?” she manages to mumble out.

“A secure government facility. I’m afraid we can’t tell you where exactly — you’re under strict quarantine. The chemical you’ve been exposed to – it’s, well…” The man smiles, and Kara has enough awareness to feel the chill run down her spine. “Powerful.”

“Chemical?”

“Ah.” The man shakes  his head, frowning. “I see you’re not quite still with us. That’s okay – you sleep for now. We can explain it all to you again later.”

He begins to turn his back to her, and Kara reaches out for him, suddenly panicked at the idea of being alone again in this cold white room again. Her fingers brush his shoulder and he jerks back as though scalded, clutching his arm with a pained hiss. 

“Sorry, I — Alex — what about my sister?”

The man nods. “As I said, your family has been contacted and made aware of your situation. But the quarantine doesn’t allow any contact between you whatsoever. We’ll explain it all to you the next time I visit.”

Kara’s fear must show in her eyes, because the man suddenly looks sympathetic as he walks back towards her.

“Don’t worry. You’re in good hands here. And your family will be informed at every step of the way what’s going on with you.”

“Okay,” Kara says, though a sinking feeling settles deep within her stomach.

He makes to leave again, but Kara stops him.

“Sorry, just — what was your name?”

The man smiles. “Dr. Lex Luthor.”

Kara feels her eyelids get heavy again, and the last thing she sees is his frame silhouetted in the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I'm sorry for the wait. Planning for this fic has been a bit intense, so I wanted to make sure everything was just right. I hope you enjoyed this update and will try to make them more frequent from here on out :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm excited to finally be posting this first chapter. I've had it written for quite some time but wanted to have more planned before posting. For those of you who read Communion, this will be a pretty different fic. The main pairing will be Sanvers, but there is some side Supercorp. Hope you enjoy :)


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